Matt Shaw: A Sting in the Tale: A Collection of Short Stories

Aidan was sitting at the dining room table. A cup of water on a mat before him and a bowl of chilli — with some bread on the side — next to that. His cutlery was next to the bowl, untouched.

Jade walked into the room with her own bowl and drink. She took a seat opposite Aidan and realised he hadn’t eaten anything, “You didn’t have to wait for me,” she said. “Tuck in before it gets cold. I think we have waited long enough for this now, don’t you?”

“I’m not hungry.”

“Don’t be silly. You haven’t eaten all day. You must be starving.”

“I don’t want it,” he said.

Jade put her own cutlery down and looked at her disobedient son. She wanted to yell at him to do as he was told. She wanted to snap that — if he didn’t eat — she would tan his backside. She closed her eyes and counted to ten, repressing the hostile feelings once more. She opened her eyes again and forced a smile, ever conscious that the damned black dog was snapping at her heels.

“You must eat something,” she told him.

Aidan sensed her growing frustration and lifted the spoon from the table. He buried it into the bowl of chilli and then — slowly — pulled it back out with the smallest amount of food on it. Jade didn’t move. She kept her eyes fixed upon her son until he shovelled what was on the spoon, into his mouth. He swallowed without chewing — not that that was an issue considering the pathetic amount he had tried.

“There. Isn’t that better? Now eat the rest up like a good boy,” she said.

“I don’t want it,” he said.

“Yes you do. It’s chilli. It’s your favourite.”

“No it’s not!”

“Oh? Then — tell me — what is your favourite?”

“Nuggets.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. You hate nuggets.”

“No I don’t,” Aidan whined.

They both fell silent. He was staring at his bowl — too afraid to look her in the eye — and she was staring directly at him; her own eyes burning to the back of his skull. He was just being difficult. She knew he was. He was testing her. This often happened when he came back from his father’s house. He’d go liking one thing and then come home hating it and liking another. Some of the time, Jade was left wondering whether his father had put him up to it and — that actually — the opinion wasn’t his own after all. A pathetic way of trying to get one up on her.

“Well it is one of your favourites,” Jade said eventually. She shovelled more into her own mouth but kept her eyes fixed on her son. She hated it when he went to stay with his dad for more than a couple of days. Due to it being the school holidays, he had spent the last week with him. She should have expected trouble when his father dropped him back off but — after the events of today — she had let her guard down. She paused a moment to consider whether he was playing up because of the day’s events or whether it was because he had been with dad. A tough call — it could have been either.

“I don’t like it!” he shouted.

Jade swallowed her mouthful down and stared at her son. He didn’t usually shout out like this. This wasn’t him. He was her pride and joy and her biggest victory in life was teaching him empathy for all people and animals. This was his father’s doing. He must have said something to upset him, or to turn him against Jade. But what could that have been? They might not have loved each other — Jade and her ex — but, most of the time, they still managed to be amicable.

“You’re being ridiculous!” she snapped suddenly. “What has gotten into you?”

Before Aidan could answer, they both heard the sound of a key turning in the front door lock. Esslee was home.

“You wait right here and carry on eating your dinner,” Jade said. She got up and walked from the room. Aidan sat there, listening… Shaking.

“Why was the door locked?” Esslee asked.

Jade didn’t answer, “Where have you been? We waited as long as we could for dinner. We’ve had to start.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, “I did try calling you to let you know I was running late.”

“Where were you?”

“I just got held up at work.” There was a slight pause. “What is for dinner?”

“We’re having chilli,” Jade said.

“Nice. Hang on. Let me just get my coat off.”

“I’ll fetch you a bowl if you want to go straight through.”

Footsteps in the halfway. One set passed right by and the other set came into the room. Aidan looked over his shoulder to see who it was. It was Esslee.

Esslee smiled at Aidan, “Hello,” he said.

Aidan didn’t smile back. Nor did he take his eyes off Esslee as he walked over to the table and took a seat next to him. There was a slight pause as the man and boy looked at each other. Esslee glanced over the boy’s shoulder, back towards the door, and then looked back down to the boy in front of him.

“Listen, I’m going to get you out of here. Okay? But for now you just have to play along. Okay?” Esslee said.

The boy — not Aidan — nodded and started to cry.

“Don’t cry. It’s okay. Help is coming. I promise.”

“What’s wrong with him?” Jade asked as she came back into the room — a bowl of chilli in her hand for Esslee, along with some cutlery.

“Silly bugger bit his tongue,” Esslee said with a subtle wink to the boy.

Jade was watching the young child spoon his chilli from one side of the bowl to the other, without actually eating any. Esslee could see why she had brought him home. He did look like her son. They both had fair skin and brown hair and they both had similar eyes too — large and brown, just like Jade’s.

Esslee had known that something like this was going to happen. It had been brewing for a couple of weeks. First her own son went missing from the park area one day and then — as less and less information had come from the authorities looking into his disappearance — more and more of her meds had been forgotten.

The packets — tucked away in the medicine cabinet in the upstairs bathroom — had days of the week clearly labeled on them. The manufacturers knew it was important not to miss a dose so designed it in such a way as to help people who needed them. This packaging also made it very simple for loved ones, such as Esslee, to know when their partners weren’t taking what they were supposed to. Gradually — on a day to day basis — he had watched a decline in Jade’s mental state.

Even so — despite sensing something was brewing — he hadn’t expected this.

Not kidnapping.

“How was work today then?” Esslee asked Jade in an attempt to turn the attention away from the stranger sitting there, playing with his food — too afraid to eat it.

By day, when not kidnapping children who possessed a passing resemblance to her missing son, Jade worked long hours in the veterinary field as a technician (nurse) for small animals such as dogs and cats. Before all of this — her breakdown and her missing son — she had loved her job although she often saw things which broke her heart. Especially when it involved the horrific things humans could do to animals which then could not be saved. Those were the hard days but — the flip side of the coin — the days when their misfortune could be turned around and they could be saved… Well… Those were the days in which you would get a rewarding feeling not found in many other jobs.

“We saved a cat today,” Jade replied with a smile. “At first it looked as though it was going to be touch and go but then — just like that — the antibiotics started to work. We’re keeping it in the clinic over the weekend but, on Monday, all being well we’re phoning the owners to come and collect it.” She took a sip from her water.